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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442910">Not Made Of Glass</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlydewdrop/pseuds/pearlydewdrop'>pearlydewdrop</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Her Socialist and His Suffragette [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Downton Abbey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Death Fix, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Cutesy, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Fix-It, Lady Sybil Lives AU, Married Couple, Napping, Sharing a Bed, Tom is a Sweetheart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:07:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlydewdrop/pseuds/pearlydewdrop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"For goodness sake, Tom", Sybil chided gently, opening her arms in an offered embrace.</p><p>Honestly, she just couldn't see what his problem was. Their bed at Downton was huge! It was far larger than the one they'd shared just weeks earlier in Dublin when she'd been twice her current size, heavily pregnant with Sybbie. "I've given birth to a child...I'm not made from glass".</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom Branson/Sybil Crawley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Her Socialist and His Suffragette [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1398220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Not Made Of Glass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="xcontrast">
<p></p><div>
<p></p><div><p>
        <strong>Not Made of Glass.</strong>
      </p><p>"For goodness sake, Tom", Sybil chided gently, opening her arms in an offered embrace.</p><p>Honestly, she just couldn't see what his problem was. Their bed at Downton was huge! It was far larger than the one they'd shared just weeks earlier in Dublin when she'd been twice her current size, heavily pregnant with Sybbie. "I've given birth to a child...I'm not made from glass".</p><p>Tom pushed his uncombed hair back from his forehead, attempting to rearrange his tired features so as to alleviate Sybil's concern, the reason why she was so adamant he get into their bed and take a nap.</p><p>He sighed to himself, it was so like her to be preoccupied with the welfare of others when she, herself, had been so unwell. "Sybil, I'm perfectly fi—", Tom began, but was duly cut off by his wife's quintessential Crawley glare.</p><p>"Don't be silly, darling. I know very well that you haven't slept in two days."</p><p>Frowning defensively, Tom crossed his arms over his chest. "How on earth do you know that?"</p><p>"Because I know you", Sybil replied sternly but not without affection. "And I know that no one in this house would have been able to get you to leave me."</p><p>Tom sighed deeply, shaking his head. Yes, he was tired...that was something he could and would admit to, but not so tired that he would risk hurting his darling wife; one of the two most precious people in the world to him alongside their baby daughter. "I'll be grand, love."</p><p>"You really are the most ridiculously stubborn man I know."</p><p>"Yeah, well I'll take that as a compliment."</p><p>Pursing her lips together, Sybil patted the empty place beside her on the mattress. She had seen the way her husband had looked at ever since she had first woken up, relieved—yes...but also constantly worried to the point of being positively terrified.</p><p>"Tom, I promise that you're not going to hurt me. Yes, Sybbie and I have been through quite a lot over the past few days but we're going to be fine", Sybil said, reaching out and squeezing Tom's hand. "I'm not going anywhere."</p><p>Quietly, Tom took in the sight of his wife—astounded at how accurately she had hit the nail on the head, how well she knew him inside out. He nodded in response, another chip of the anxiety that had settled heavily in the pit of his stomach over the last week falling away.</p><p>"You'd better not"</p><p>Sybil laughed softly at his deadpanned response, pulling back the covers next to her as Tom, apparently having made up his mind, approached her carefully, hesitantly. Taking his arms, she guided them around her, with a cheeky grin that was almost a glimpse of her usual self. "I want my husband in my bed with his arms around me and I'm quite well enough for that, thank you."</p><p>At that Tom couldn't help but smile in response, burying his nose gently in her dark curls. Her warm fingers wrapped around his as they curled closer to one another, hesitantly as though they were doing so for the first time all over again. "Well who am I to disappoint, milady", he teased softly, feeling more light-hearted than he had in days.</p></div></div></div>
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